Fall of 1888
by ladygalaxyj
Summary: Slowly, her look shifted to his eyes. John was gazing at her with so much passion, and yet, there was a veil of sadness present that she didn't understand. "Why John? What are you afraid of?"  Helen/John - 1880's


_Disclaimer: Sanctuary and its characters are not mine, never will be. My words, however, are my own._  
><em><span>ParingsCharacters: Helen/John (1880's) _  
><em><span>Genre:<span> Angst/Romance_  
><em><span>Rating:<span> K+ _  
><em><span>Word count:<span> 1517_

_A word before starting: I would like to wish a Happy Birthday to **CoupleChemistry**! I'm sorry I couldn't get this done in time for your birthday dear. You are a rocking beta and I have learned so much with you in a short time. :) So, a belated birthday present to you! I hope you like it. :D_

_Thanks to **NoCleverSig** for the beta on this one. :)_

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><p><strong>FALL OF 1888<strong>

They had been fighting over it since the beginning of September. Not a big argument, but enough to matter.

They rarely disagreed. The reason was simple. They had the same vision of the world: forward thinking, science-minded, hungry for knowledge. They would exchange a look, and everything would be said. Watson believed them to be the perfect couple. Only on this front though, because not everything about their relationship could be considered 'proper'. Pushing boundaries was not a motto restricted to The Five. Helen and John were proud to say they were not the typical couple of their time, wandering the streets holding hands. If their neighbours knew half the things they'd done, they would run away screaming, but none of that mattered to them. They were happy, truly happy. And nothing could have made them fall off their cloud. Nothing.

Except an argument as ridiculous as this one.

With all his openness to their science and research, John was the last person Helen expected to restrain her. Had it been her father, she would have understood. After all, it was his job to worry over a situation like this. She would have been disappointed in her friends, had they tried anything, but she could have blamed it on the unlikely fact that they didn't know her as well as her fiancé. But John? She could not – would not – take this from him.

According to John Druitt, it was supposedly, 'not safe for a woman such as herself to walk in the streets alone at night'. His excuse?

The Ripper.

As if she hadn't heard about him.

Her father had already given her a lecture on what she should do should she come across a man who looked suspicious. Gregory had also voiced his preference that she stay inside. Of course, Helen had openly disagreed, saying she should not be expected to do what he didn't do himself. She would not lock herself away based on a rumour. Plus, she knew how to defend herself, perhaps even more so than some men her age.

As her father started to back away and to respect her choice, John stepped in. At first, it was only particularly dark nights, and a part of her understood his concerns. But when he started distracting her so she would always stay inside, his worries became overwhelming, and she sometimes felt like slapping some sense into him.

So, for the first time, they had an argument.

Tension filled the meetings of the Five, and none of their friends dared to say anything about this unusual situation. It had never happened before, and they didn't know how to tackle it. Long gone were the subtle glances, touches and murmured words. In were the awkward looks and impatient sighs.

Helen and John felt bad for letting their quarrel interfere with their research. The Five were supposed to be the most important thing for them all, but they were both too stubborn to let the other win.

So, they all waited patiently. September flew by. The couple's situation hadn't changed. They were thriving on some sort of status quo for the well-being of the group, but the others could sense they were having problems. After almost a month, it was starting to weigh heavily on their shoulders. The glances slowly made their way back in between them, but they were shy ones. It was obvious both of them were tired of this endless charade.

One late night, John casually lingered behind after one of their meetings. If Nigel, James or Nikola noticed, none of them said anything, for which the couple was grateful. They hated being the center of attention, which was probably one of the driving forces behind resolving their issue. Once it was over, they could return to their usual camaraderie. James was the last out, kissing Helen on both cheeks and giving John a nod as he parted ways with them. The young woman closed the door, leaning slightly on it and closing her eyes. A short intake of breath later, she turned around and faced the man she still loved. No argument was ever going to change that. They were alone together for the first time in two weeks. It had seemed longer to both of them.

"John…-"

"Helen…-"

They spoke simultaneously interrupting one another. It seemed they hadn't lost their chemistry, which made both of their bottom lips curve upward. They used to almost be able to hear each other's thoughts. A smile settled on their faces at the memory.

"I believe you should go first," John told her, graciously retreating to the back of his mind any comment he might have had.

Helen nodded. She had been the one offended by the overprotective behaviour he had shown for the past month. Since the first Ripper murder, John had watched her so closely, she had felt restrained with the one person she should feel the most opened with. She hated it. "I just want to know why, John," she said. "Why the sudden need to protect me? I was doing fine on my own before agreeing to your courtship."

"This situation is different, my dear," he almost whispered. "You've seen firsthand what he does to women."

"And?"

"And I don't want you getting hurt," he paused. "Or worse…" John trailed off, trying to get the horrible image of her body lying on the ground in front of him out of his mind. He shuddered at the thought. Would Jack be able to do such a thing?

Helen sighed. The look in his eyes told her he was scared for her, and she couldn't understand why he was so frightened. She had been in numerous dangerous situations, and he had never said anything. What made Jack the Ripper so different? She didn't have a clue, but she knew that she couldn't stay mad at him when he looked at her like that. His hazel eyes were full of concern, hope and love. She took two small steps in his direction, extending her hand for him to take, which he gladly did, as if reassuring himself of her presence. Helen guided him to the table in the center of the room, and they sat side by side, their clenched hands resting on the table.

Helen's eyes locked on their joined hands, and she gently brushed her thumb over John's. Slowly, her look shifted to his eyes. John was gazing at her with so much passion, and yet, there was a veil of sadness present that she didn't understand. "Why John? What are you afraid of?" she whispered, bringing her other hand to rest on his chin.

John leaned into her touch. It had been too long since they had made physical contact, too long since they had been this close. He kissed her palm. "I can't say," her murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear. He closed his eyes, trying to will the pain away. He loved this woman too much for Jack to hurt her.

Helen saw his struggle, but was at a loss on how to help him. She moved to the tip of the chair and leaned forward to brush her lips against his. The kiss was soft and tender, and she put everything she felt for him into it to reassure him that she would be safe.

She stayed close, their foreheads touching. "I can't promise you I'll stay inside forever, John. I'm not like that, and you know it. But I can tell you I'll be careful and wise and try to avoid the darker alleys," she said softly. She smiled, gazing longingly into his eyes. "And if I ever find myself away from my house at a disreputable hour, I'll count on you to take me home," she added, taking his shirt into her hand to bring him closer.

John smiled, despite himself, despite the worry that was slowly overcoming him. Looking so deep into her eyes, he knew nothing could diminish his love for her. She was beautiful and… perfect. Simply perfect. If he ever lost her, he'd die himself, a walking corpse. He couldn't believe she was the one reassuring him when he was the one responsible for everything happening in their lives. John held her hand firmly, afraid to let go, afraid of losing her at any moment.

He wanted them to be a family. They had never talked about children, but he knew Helen wanted at least one, if not more. They would have so many things to teach them. John could tell them about society and the hard choices they would have to make, and Helen would school them on pushing boundaries. She would teach them not to be afraid of anyone because she was the strongest person he knew, and he didn't know where he would be without her.

So he held on, drawing strength from her presence.

He loved her so much that he was hurting at the mere thought of something happening to her.

And, for the first time, he was afraid of Jack himself.

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